Praying for a miracle...

I will never forget the overwhelming mix of emotions I felt on the day I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t think it could be possible; the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I remember feeling scared. I remember crying and feeling so guilty that I wasn’t crying tears of joy to read the positive test. Never in my life did I think that I would one day have that emotion. It wasn’t that the thought of having another baby scared me, or the thought of being pregnant. I was happy. At least I wanted to be happy.

But how could I? How could I be happy for myself when I know of so many people who are struggling to get pregnant? So many who try for years, so many who pay thousands of dollars just for the chance to become pregnant. I thought about all the people around me miscarrying their babies and being left heart broken. How was it fair that I was able to get pregnant without planning or preparing for that next step. Why was I being blessed with another amazing spirit to add to my family when we had already been given the great blessing of our sweet twins.

I remember wondering what I would say when people found out and I remember telling myself I would never let anyone know it was a surprise because I remember how painful that feeling can be when you so badly want to have a child and are trying so hard and others around you are getting pregnant simply by looking at each other for to long. I knew I never wanted to make anyone feel how I felt during the two years of trying for our first pregnancy. But I also remember feeling different, feeling like something wasn’t right, the spirit overcame me multiple times like a comfort I’ve never felt before and that was something I didn’t understand. Until now….

I have had 4 ultrasounds up to this point and then I found myself sitting in that conference room waiting for the genetic specialist for the longest 10 minutes of my life. He had performed an ultrasound and told me to get dressed and comfortable so we could talk. The sound of his voice rings in my mind, I felt pain behind his voice and I felt heartache. I didn’t understand what was going on. He started by asking us what we knew about the baby thus far, we replied by telling me all we knew was that a few things didn’t look “normal.” He went on by talking about all the chromosomal abnormalities he could see, then referred to my pregnancy as a “lethal pregnancy” and he didn’t think I would make it to term before losing the baby.

I’ve always felt the Lord has been preparing me for a special needs child. That was a gift in my eyes; it was a blessing from the Lord to be trusted with such an amazing spirit. The thought of having a child with special needs never made me nervous or scared. Having a child with such needs was something I knew I could accept and without question, something I could love. However, this is not going to be the case with our sweet baby. Chromosomal abnormalities, heart defect, hole in the stomach and not being able to detect all extremities, was all the Dr kept trying to explain to us. But to be honest after the term Lethal Pregnancy I don’t think I heard much. He mentioned terminating the pregnancy, the word alone sent chills across my entire body and left tears swelling in my eyes. How dare he even say that out loud, how dare he tell me my baby is so lifeless that I may as well ends its life by my own choice. I wanted to be angry with him, I wanted to stand and scream my frustration and sadness. But of coarse I understand that he was only doing his job and that we did not share the same beliefs. I simply took a breath and told him that wasn’t an option.

We left that conference room broken hearted and confused. If my baby was just going to die then why hadn’t it already? Why did I just watch on the ultrasound screen as it moved and wiggled and raised its hands up to its face just as the Dr. was saying he was unable to see its extremities? I wondered if our baby was a fighter, I wondered if maybe we’d become one of those “miracle stories” we hear about. I wondered if simply by my own faith things would work themselves out and in a few months we would be blessed with another healthy little baby to join our family. I wondered if the Dr. was wrong. I want him to be wrong. I want him to call me and tell me he’d like to take a second look and for him to find nothing. I want to be a mother to this baby, more than anything I want to understand my purpose in the Lords eyes for this baby.

Of all the things I long for, and all the conditions I wish I could change, I know that I can’t. I know that there is nothing I can do to help my baby, nothing I can do to change the outcome. So I wait, I will carry this baby as long as the Lord needs me to. If he needs me to help this baby gain a body then that is what I will do. I know and believe with all my heart the purpose of this life but just because I have that knowledge doesn’t take the pain away or make it any easier. I am allowed to be heart broken and I am allowed to cry. I am allowed to wonder why this is happening and I am allowed to hope for a miracle even when the Dr.s are telling me there is no chance.

I never want to forget how I am feeling today. I have felt the hand of my loving Savior and I have felt the peace he is trying to offer me. I pray I always accept this feeling and never harbor any anger or doubt. But as for today, today I’m going to let my heart hurt, I’m going to let myself cry every time I become overcome with emotion. And I’m going to love my two children and my husband even more because this life is a gift, no matter how long or short it may be.

(Eight days later)

Today I went in for a weekly heartbeat check. (Basically they want me to come once a week to check heartbeat until there isn’t one.. I thought hearing the heartbeat would somehow reassure me. Somehow bring me peace and comfort.. It did not. I heard the heart racing and I couldn’t handle it. I started to cry, to sob, and told my dr to please stop and that I couldn’t handle hearing my baby alive yet knowing it wouldn’t last forever. He so sweetly tried to explain and to comfort me. I asked him if he was “SURE” and he said because of the faith he believes he could never say that because he believes in miracles. I want to believe. He told me he has never seen a case as severe as mine change BUT that some things are out of our hands. I left the office heartbroken again and so confused. Yet, with hope. I don’t know if I am setting myself up or not but all I can do is hope that things will change and that I will be able to raise this baby in my home and come to know this special spirit and love it with all that I have to offer.

I went home and did what I SWORE I wouldn’t do. I went to the Internet. I searched for stories like mine and I did find them, lots of them. Some stories ended like the Dr and specialist said they would, but some didn’t. Some stories were the EXACT same as mine and they had their babies. Some born with Down Syndrome, some born with Turners Disease, but they LIVED. They were healthy and happy. They did NOT die.

I’m more confused than ever. I’m not sure if reading these stories helped me. I just don’t know what to think from here. All I can do is wait. All I can do is take care of myself as I would if I were having a healthy pregnancy.

I’m not sure why I am sharing my story. It helps me to write, it helps me knowing I am not alone. It helps. And so that’s why I find myself at the computer typing out my feelings. I have faith that this is in the Lords hands. I have faith that miracles do happen. Maybe my baby will be a miracle. Either way this baby will forever hold my heart…

I will share more as I learn more. I’m not ready to talk face to face about this and that is why I wrote it down. My family doesn’t understand the whole story and I haven’t been able to talk about it all without crying so maybe this will help them understand..